Before We Were Winx Club
by The13thVasilisa
Summary: What were the girl's lives like before Alfea? Somehow, each girl found what they were looking for when they came to the school for fairies. Rated for a few curse words.
1. Digitally Minded

Title-** Before We Were Winx**

**Summary: We know what happened that day Bloom stumbled upon Stella in the woods, but what about everyone's lives before that? Before the girls were Winx Club?**

**I don't own Winx Club! Sorry. **

**_Chapter One: Didgitally Minded_**

Tecna Karolina of Zenith's coming into the realm was...silent. She didn't cry at all. Perle and Isak of Zenith were not alarmed; neither were the doctors. That was usal procedure for a Zenith baby.

What wasn't normal was that, when she opened big teal eyes, identical to Perle herself, she only glanced up dully. "She looks so tired..." hesitated Perle. The doctors shrugged it off like it was nothing and allowed Perle and Tecna to go home that afternoon. (Zenins were efficient. That was their business; logic, ration, efficientcy.)

When Tecna was six months old, she was talking in short, broken sentences to her parents. Perl and Isak were overjoyed.

Tecna loved the sun. She loved all nature, actually.  
>Her latest accomplishment was to short-circuit the house. She had calmly explained to her mother that she needed the use of two computers and the television remote.<p>

When the lights went out, Perl had screamed. Her computers were down. Typing quickly until the lights relit themselves, the fairy had been oddly proud of her daughter. It was the first technology-related thing Tecna had done.

Then life for the small family went to hell in a hand basket.

When Tecna was one year old, she stopped loving the sun and getting paler, until she was almost white.  
>She stopped smiling and stopped saying words like <em>pretty<em> and _funny_ and substituted them for words like _logical_ and _reasonable_.

Her parents didn't notice anything until one day when Tecna was made to put on a black shirt for a party. Her skin looked like milk on midnight.  
>Her parents were geniuses, but it didn't take an IQ of more then 10 to realize something was wrong.<p>

When her parents brought her to the doctor. She was diagnosed with Fyndrenrin, a fancy word to say that the right side of her brain was slowly dying. The only thing keeping it from going too fast was her magic. It was a mutated strain of some Earth disease called brain cancer, and witches and heroes were immune.

Perle and Isak were worried, but calmly and logically devised a solution to this issue.  
>They created Tecna a new brain—well, part of a new brain. The left side of her brain was fine, but most of the right side was controlled electronically.<p>

Raise your hand if you can tell me why there was a problem with this.

That's right. The right side of the brain controls emotions. Tecna's right android brain couldn't fathom emotions, no matter how hard Perle and Isak tried. They were able to salvage some of her feelings, but they were buried deep under layers of knowledge.

Tecna stopped smiling and laughing and kept talking, reading, and programming. And she still wouldn't cry.

When Tecna turned two, she learned to read simple words and take apart parts of Daddy's car.  
>She learned she liked the colors green, purple, and blue, green best of all, and that she liked spinach.<p>

She learned that now, her circuits burned to a crisp in the sun, and that inside was better them outside. She learned that she wasn't good at knowing what Mommy and Daddy were feeling and that knowledge was power.

So she started learning other things.

Perle knocked on the door of her daughter's room. there was a "Yes?" and the sound of walking, then Tecna opened up.

Pale from staying in her room so often, the thin, thirteen year old fairy girl looked up at her mother. Perle sighed. "Sometimes I worry about you, Tecna."

"Is there a particular reason for this?" asked the young fairy, brushing a shock of magenta hair out of her eyes. Perle patted her shoulder. "If I homeschool you and you never go outside, then you'll never make friends. Don't you want friends?"

"Your assumption is incorrect in assuming I have no friends. My computer is my friend." replied Tecna, turning to go back to her room.

"Tecna, that's not what I meant. People you can talk to." Perle persisted. It was a lost cause, she knew. It was literally impossible to argue with Tecna, it would be like arguing with a brick wall for bumping into you—it makes you think you're wrong even when you're right.

Perle had grown up the same way, and she hadn't liked it at all. Tecna seemed satisfied, so maybe it was best to leave things as they were. "Besides," Tecna reasoned, "the other children are completely illogical."

They weren't completely illogical, just slightly less...severe then Tecna. Perle shrugged and let Tecna go back to her laptop.

In the safe darkness of her room, the pink haired teenager sat down on her bed, fingers poised to type and nothing happening. In truth, she did wish she had a few close friends.

But like she had said to her mother, she had her computer, what more friendship would anyone want to give her? She talked too much about robots and not enough about clothes, and she was too cold to others. But how else was she supposed to act? She didn't know how they felt.

She turned back to her computer.

On her birthday, her present was a 'cell phone'. Tecna had been confused, until her father had showed her how _fun_ these things were. To take apart, put back together, replace parts.

It was like a history book.

Perl sat her down the next day and told her that it was time for her to start going to start eigth grade when she was thirteen, and in a normal school.

Tecna had listened with clarity that suited her.

"Affirmative. But Mother, why?"

Perl explained that she was going to start working on a computer that would take up too much time to homeschool her _and_ work.

When Tecna walked into the classroom on the first day, she could tell this would not work out.  
>A smiling girl with bright blue hair in braids and gray eyes bounded up to her as soon as she walked into the room.<p>

"Oh my gosh! Hi! A new girl! Hi! What's your name?"

Tecna sighed, trying not to roll her eyes. "Tecna."

"My name's...um... Helene! Yay! Hi, New Girl!"

"My name is Tecna."

"I know! Wanna be friends?"

"Thank you, but...No." Tecna sat down at her desk and took out a book about the Pythagorean Theorem. Helene glared at her and bounded off.

Several days later, Tecna was walking to lunch when she heard a voice behind her. "Hey, Robo-girl! Will ya do my homework for me?"

She had no clue who he was talking to; she didn't talk to her classmates and they didn't talk to her. She continued to walk, but the boy kept talking.

"I'm talking to you, Mainframe, or is the speaker in your ear broken?"

She kept her head straight forward, but dared to look around a little. The other children were giggling, and staring at her. Something in her brain clicked. So her was talking to her.

She gave no sign that she had heard him and kept on walking.


	2. Low Note

**To my reviewers: Thank you so much for the very kind reviews you left on Before We Were Winx Club. It really made my day. **

**Disclaimer- I don't own anything. Happy Thanksgiving, my USA friends, and if not in the US, happy day!**

**Chapter Two: High Note**

Musa and her father stood outside. A man Musa didn't know held an umbrella over them. It rained.

Musa wore a black dress, and her father wore a suit. Tears, silently and unnoticed by her grieving father, trickled down her face.

Friends, neighbors, acquaintances, everyone came up to say their condolences for Matlin's death. Thinking bitter thoughts about her mother's death, she nodded and held her father's hand.

It rained harder and they moved under the tent. The black box that her mother was inside was lowered into the deep hole. They would cover it up afterwards, after the funeral goers had gone home.

Musa became known as the sweetheart.

"Musa, that sweetheart, she's so good to her father—and after his wife, too!"

"Musa, she's been through so much and she still is so accomplished! What a sweetheart!"

Or a saint.

"Oh, Musa, darling, you're a saint. After losing your mother...so young...oh, my goodness. I'm going to cry now."

"Musa, you are a saint, love."

The words, though meant to be comforting, were fallen on the wrong ears. Musa shuddered inwardky everytime someone said that she was so good...so kind...a saint.

A saint.

She wasn't a saint, she was a sinner. How could she be a saint when she thought spiteful thoughts at her father when he yelled at her for sneaking out to play music?

How could she be a good daughter when she came away from dinner and screamed into her pillow with fruastration of her father's conversation?

How could she be a sweetheart when she was thirteen and had never even had a slumber party? Grades were what mattered.

Studying. She hated studying, though she was an apt student. She wanted to play music.

The songs in her head ached and screamed to be let out, written down and sung and heard. The song in her heart mattered more, and it wanted to be sung too.

She hated the really undeserved compliments. So suddenly, mother's dead, so lets tell Musa she's special?

She hated the house: her mother's recording studio was locked off. It made her angry. So they should just forget every single thing that didn't turn out well? They should forget Matlin just because it was hard to remember her?

Thirteen year old Musa woke up, slapped her alarm clock until it stopped ringing, threw on some clothes, and ran downstairs to breakfast.

She made up an excuse to Hoboe about visiting the library after school. He bought it, pleased she'd stopped trying to play music.

Musa only felt slightly guilty about lying; music was in her blood; she lived it, breathed it, and _heard_ it.

So after school, she snuck down the street and into a alley between the grocery store and the toy store. Ciara and Kidd were already there.

"You ready?" she asked Ciara, who nodded. She turned on the radio and began to dance, as did Kidd and Musa. Other children joined them soon after, and they alternated playing instruments, singing, and dancing.

"Our band is really getting to sound great!" cheered Ciara. Musa nodded, fingers moving quickly over guitar keys.

"MUSA!"

Musa turned around, groaning. Oh no. It was her father, face a lovely shade of flaming lobster.  
>She groaned out loud. "Yes, dad?"<p>

"Come. With. Me." he snapped. Musa nodded, head down, and sighed as she followed him to their house.

Secretly Musa was glad she had done it. Even if she got punished from here into the next century.

Or millennium, apparently.

"I have told you many times that you do NOT play music in this house! How many times have I said that, Musa? But every time you continue to defy me!"

"Uh-huh."

"And you LIED to me, Musa, you said you were going to the library."

"But, dad—"

"Musa, go to your room. I'm having a concert tomorrow night, and you're coming, okay?"

"Yes, dad." she whispered, trudging to her room to do her homework._ "Would it kill him to lighten up a little?" _

Fighting the urge to cry, she sat down at her desk and pulled out a math worksheet. Why did it really matter right now if she knew what B+19-1/3=-7 was?


	3. Sunshiny, Don't Touch

**Disclaimer: Not owned by meh! **

**Chapter 3: Sunshiny, Don't Touch**

Princess Stella of Solaria was having a horrible time at her seventh birthday party. They were trying to play hide-and-seek, but it wasn't going well.

She was finding, and since it was against royal law for the princess to lose at anything, they were making sure she could find them.

Lady Kyna's daughter Nova was standing, perfectly concealed, against a tree—except for her head peeking out from around the corner. George, the milkman's son, was hiding under a laundry basket with holes in it.

Stella had asked them to let her lose once. It was like she had asked if she could go on a killing spree with a rusty axe.

"But you're the princess of Solaria! You can't lose!"

Stella noticed something else that day. In school, she always tried to do her best, but she always got good grades, even if she hadn't even known about the test until the teacher announced she was passing it out.

_"Scrap it.."_ she thought, rolling her eyes, and staring at another 100%. _"Why even try? I might as well do what I'm good at."_

She was good at shopping, makeup, and hair.

Instead of studying for the next math test, she shopped for the perfect eyeshadow. Instead of looking for adverbs for homework, she tried on all of her shoes.

She made honor roll the next semester.

Soon, Stella couldn't care less about school. She fell behind in her lessons, but it didn't matter. When grades did start mattering in seventh grade, when teachers gave real grades and she stopped going to a Solarian school and to a regular school, it was too late to catch up, but she didn't even care then.

She also learned that boys were who she was dressing up for. She hadn't exactly known, before. And then there was the other problem. The reason she was sitting on the royal floor in the royal palace, ear to the royal door.

Hearing a royal breakable object hit the wall.

"All you do is govern this stupid kingdom, and never pay attention to me! A flock of harpies invaded Clarlun last week, and since you're my husband, you have to protect my kingdom! But did you do anything? No!" Luna was shouting.

"Solaria has problems of its own. You're so selfish, sometimes, Luna!" Raidus yelled back.

"I'm not the one ignoring the needs of your home realm!" Luna replied heatedly. Stella shrunk from the door.

"Well, excuse me for wanting to rule my kingdom!"

"The only reason you have to spend so much time in Solaria is because you spend money like a drunken sailor and refuse to admit it, then keep taxes so low, you can never pay it off! I had to lie to Stella yesterday when she asked why we sold the summer estate. What was I supposed to say, 'Daddy couldn't pay for it and he needed money fast?"

Stella gasped. Her mother had said that the reason for the selling of the summer cottage was because they had deemed it too broken to live in. Never that they needed money.

She ran upstairs, rifled through her dresses, and realized that whenever she asked her nurse to go on a shopping trip, she would say, 'Not right now, princess', and look away. Then, if any further proof was needed, six of her dresses she had grown out of, patched up and let out, lay on her bed.

"I'm going to live back on Clarlune!" yelled Luna, just outside her door. Stella grabbed a magazine and jumped onto her bed, forcing a calm beach-model smile. Luna always threatened to leave and go live on her home planet.

"Hello, Stella, darling." Luna said distractedly. "Have you seen little Nova?"

"I think she's shopping. May I go with her?"

Luna's eyes grew dark. "No, darling."

"But mommy! Why not?"

"Because I said so, Stella. Be a good girl."

"NO! Let me go!"

"THAT IS ENOUGH!" roared Raidus. He had come in the doorway. "Listen to your mother." they half glared at each other out of corners of their eyes.

Stella sighed and nodded. After they had left and she had dug her purse out of her messy room, she found her credit cards were all missing.

Tears dripped onto the pink wallet. Why wouldn't her life give her a break and let her parents stop screaming?

She got up to go through the secret path to outside; there was a fancy party tonight and she was invited. Sure, Raidus and Luna had said no, but Stella said yes.

Laying out a yellow and violet dress and red tiara, dabbing on makeup, and choosing shoes were her favorite pastimes, and she indulged herself in all three now.

"It was as is I'm doing Mommy and Daddy a favor." she muttered. By being the princess to the party goers, therefore demonstrating that Solaria was fine, even if it wasn't, she was keeping everything normal for Solarians.

So far, so survivable.


	4. Salty Tears

**Thank you nana11 and PrincessSkylar for favoriting me and BWWW. It means a lot, and if you favorited me and didn't get a shout out, just say so (it doesn't email me when someone does this, so I don't know unless I see your profile). **  
><strong>I don't own Winx Club. Too bad. <strong>  
><strong>Please tell me if you would like me to do Roxy or not. <strong>

Princess Layla was her name. Not just Layla. Princess Layla. Queen Marina and King Troy decreed it.

Layla's day was always the same. Get up. Nurse helps her get dressed. Go to breakfast, where she can't say anything unless spoken to and must sit still.

Go to room to have decorum lessons with Lady Bathade. Speak only when spoken to. Stay still unless told to move. Go to lunch and dinner, where the same rules apply.

Go to bed. And all of this was making Layla want to SCREAM.

Until Nurse, when she was ten, moved out of her room at night, saying she was old enough to sleep alone.

And Layla realized how alone she really was. And how much she feared it.

But a princess doesn't get scared. So Layla couldn't ask Nurse to come back. Layla couldn't leave the light on.

So Layla spent her time shivering alone in the dark, praying sleep would get to her before something else did.

And in the mornings she opened her eyes and did it again.

Then there was Anne. She had been told to go to her room, but instead she went to the tower, and Anne was dancing there.

Both girls gasped when they realized both of them were there. "Oh, princess, I am so sorry."

Layla shrugged and sat on the floor. "What are you doing?"

"Dancing. My name's Anne." her braids whirled.

"Looks hard." she observed.

"It's not. I'll teach you."

She could never move the way Anne moved, in her bulky gown, but she tried hard. She got good, and Anne showed her how to sneak out of the palace at night.

Anne twisted her curly hair into braids, and dressed in shorts and a teeshirt with leg warmers and sneakers, she looked like a normal girl. She longed to wear these things all the time, but knew that until she was queen, she would be wearing a ball gown...

_Click, click, click, click._ Heels on cold floors.

"No, no, Princess Layla!" scolded Nurse Kana. "You must walk slowly. S-L-O-W-L-Y. A princess must not move unless absolutely necessary."

"Yes, Nurse."

In her mind, Layla wasn't in her room in Tides. She was far away, in a village, maybe, watching the street performers. Or maybe she was up in the tower with Anne, dancing.

Anywhere but here.

She was brought to her mother and father, who studied her. "Solaria is looking for a union with another planet. Pity you weren't a boy and too bad Raidus is too much of a weakling to force his daughter into an arranged marriage." King Troy said.

"Sorry, father." Layla replied, lowering her eyes, as a lady must when talking to someone.

"Layla, you're going to sit next to me in the throne room tomorrow. Go to your room and practice sitting upright and perfectly still for eight hours." Queen Marina said.

"Yes, mother." Layla focused on a tiny beetle crawling across the floor. Silently, she willed it to cross the room without her parents noticing, feeling almost rebellious. Her mother hated bugs.

"And speaking for arranged marriages, my dear, at our annual ball, would you look at the nobles and their children and see if there are any you like?" her father asked her mother.

Trying to tune out her father's conversation, Layla found herself wondering if her opinion really mattered to her parents at all.

"Of course...there would be the Duke and Duchess of Aquanitince and their son Jasper...the Duke and Duchess of Oceana...Nabu is their little boy, isn't he? And Karl and Victor are the others, I think. Lord and Lady of..."

"You must bring me a list later, darling." Troy replied. He turned to Layla. "Go to your room." he opened the door and noticed the beetle. "How did this pest get inside the castle?" he crushed it with his foot. 


	5. Blessed By Fire Wilt She

**A/N- I will be doing Roxy, and all the other intro chapters are going to be this chapter because I'm getting tired of waiting. Disclaimer- I. S. Is smart. I am not. See how that plays out?**

Blessed By Fire

Crown Princess Daphne Helena Marisol Gianna Miriam of Sparx peeked into the cradle. Her baby sister was going to have a busy day. Bloom Augusta Serifina Maryanne Ophelia would be crowned Princess of the Embers. Embers was a province of Sparx; it was just a formality as everyone knew Daphne was heiress to the Sparxian throne and Bloom was only one year old—but what the sixteen year old princess didn't know was the storm brewing over her head.

Rumors were spreading that Daphne was not Miriam's and Oritel's true daughter. Everyone in her family up until her had been a redhead or brunette. Bloom, with a mane of bright red hair already, was definetly a Sparx princess. But blonde Daphne was, as it said, switched at birth with that maid's daughter.

Blonde haired, blue eyed Celia had been pregnant at the same time as the queen, and her daughter indeed had red hair. It was all kept quite a secret from Daphne. She reached out to touch Bloom's medalion, which the baby cooed happily at.

Tension was building in the air. The three Ancesstresses and Baltor were plotting to take out a planet, and when they did, it wasnt going to be pretty. Daphne lived in the blissful, slight ignorence her castle brought.

She wondered briefly where her parents were; they were supposed to meet her an hour ago. She heard a sound like a firecracker in the distance and a scream. She immediately transformed into her Winx: a short yellow dress with fancy orange gloves. Small, golden wings were on her back.

She picked up Bloom and the blankets, cringing when the medallion clanged to the floor. She flew into her room as fast as she could and rewrapped Bloom. Looking around wildly, she grabbed a few hair ribbons and tied Bloom to the front of her dress.

Holding her tightly, Daphne stood on her balcony. She could see all the chaos below, and once more wondered where the king and queen were. Had they forgotten about Daphne and Bloom? She was about to jump when her door exploded.

In walked the Three Ancesstresses. Daphne summoned her power.

It looked like a shield, and in it, a flame burned. It had no wood or fuel; it didn't need any.

The Dragon Fire.

It hung above her head as she showed them she wouldn't hesitate to use it, but they laughed. "Give it to us, little princess!" they cackled as one. She shook her head vigorously. This could work...but only long enough for her to hide Bloom. Where?

Earth. The only magicless planet. Who would look there? Did they have fire there? That sould be the easiest place to send her. Into a fire.

She flicked her fingers and put her hands over her mouth in mock horror, staring at the wall behind the witches. "Faragonda!" she shouted the name of one of the Company of Light's members. She created the illusion of her voice coming from the wall.

It worked. The witches turned around and while they did, Daphne closed her eyes and felt all her power leave her. Opening the portal, she untied the little girl with effort, fingers stumbling with fear. The witches saw her push Bloom into the portal.

"She transfered the Dragon Fire to the little one!" they screeched. "Tell us, tell us where you hid her and we will spare your life."

"No." she whispered, aware they were going to destory her. Power gathered in her hands and she felt the impact, and the excruciating pain—worse then anything she had ever before felt.

But at the same time, she felt herself changing. Achiving two levels of magic at once—almost unheard of.

First, she had to become Bloom's protecter. Though she had died, she rose, glowing, her bloody body spinning. Her skin and flesh became transparent, and she became a spirit. She had achived Spiritix.

Then she kept spinning. To give your life for someone, to actually die and achive Spiritix, gives one the Spiritix version of Enchantix—Nymphix. Her dress lengthened. Her wings, no longer needed, transformed into a golden mask.

She settled beside Bloom, calming her cries. She could hear someone calling out to her and she let them. It was a man. When he picked up Bloom, she floated up to him and whispered in his ear. "My name is Bloom." she continued, "Take care of me."

The man flinched from the fire and she wondered if this fire was a bad thing. She snapped her transparent fingers, invisible behind Mike. The fire went out.

Wlit

Flora was a troublemaker.

Not in Linphea. There were plenty of people who revered her in Linphea. But in other realms, she was awful.

Every other day she would be in some other realm, having a protest against deforestation. She made posters, buttons, and signs.

Stood in rain, snow, or sun, chained herself to trees, used her magic to made nuts fall on logger's heads.

She would call herself a plant-rights-activist. Other children would call her weird.

The thing that was different about Flora was that she wasn't above using force if the situation so called for it. Linphean children were taught not to fight, even if it killed them. Flora knew this was suicide and it was wrong, and she said so openly.

By her fourteenth birthday, she was very close to getting the law changed. Her parents, Adam and Eve, were supporting her 100% and everything was perfect.

In Linphean government, the King or other royalty had no control over laws. That was decided by the Council of Elders.

Until Rose, her little sister, at eight, was found to have Tourettes Syndrome. Her parents dropped everything for Rose's condition. Flora was too sweet to let herself get upset, and she never blamed Rose, but it had a huge impact on all her activites.

Eve payed no attention to her and until she achived her Winx, which usually happened around fourteen, she wouldn't be able to fly to get places.

Her progress in the 'attack when provoked' law went backwards, and at the hight of its incompetence, Linphea was invaded by harpies.

Seven Linpheans were killed. But, maybe worse, the Tree of Harmony had been severely damaged. The tree was the life force of Linphea, and if it died completely, the planet would wither. The planet was the life force of all the plants in the world.

Meaning this could set off a chain reaction. A lot of magic objects or life forces were plants, and if the Tree of Harmony died, Linphea would die, causing Earth to die, causing everyone on Earth to either look for a new place to live or die.

Including any and all fairies on it who had given up magic.

It would be a huge blow to the Magic dimension, thousands of planets and realms, including Earth, would be taken out.

And everyone was looking to Flora, Rose, Eve, and Adam to fix it all and save Linphea. Why?

Oh, yes, because Eve, her grandmother, her great grandmother, and everyone before her had been the guardian fairy of Linphea, and Flora was expected to be one too.

She

"Daddy, where's Mommy?" five year old Roxy asked, brushing her pink hair out of her face. Her father seemed startled by this question, then deep confusion clouded his eyes. "Who?"

"Everyone has a mommy. Where's mine?" Roxy persisted. Klaus shook his head at her as she lay, her head on little Artu's stomach. "Not now, Roxanne."

She sank back into the silence of their house, waiting for Her. She was Roxy's imaginary friend, and Roxy loved Her like no one else, except her father. She could see Her, sitting on the couch, now, right next to her father.

Maybe she was asleep now, she wasn't sure. She could pinch herself, but if Roxy did wake up, then She wouldn't be there anymore.

"Roxy," She said, and that was enough. She ran to Her and hugged her, and She returned the embrace. "Roxy, darling, this will be the last time I see you for a while." unbeknownst to Roxy, her magic was growing fainter.

"What?" blue eyes filled with tears. She wiped them away. "Roxy, love, you're magical. Always believe in yourself. I love you, sweetie." she noticed that She was fading away.

"No! No, don't go!"

"Roxy!" she opened her eyes to see her father staring down at her worriedly. "Roxy, you were yelling in your sleep."

"Oh."

That night, She didn't come. Or the next. Or the next. She was gone. Roxy cried. But by her seventh birthday, Roxy had forgotten all about Her, and scorned Imaginary as For Little Kids.

By her thirteenth birthday she had been helping in the Fruity Music Bar for two years. She had started eighth grade, and she had been told she had a great way with animals.

She did love animals. But it felt as if something was missing.

She wasn't sure what, and she turned to Artu for solace. One night she espied colored lights in the sky; purple and raspberry and blue and fiery orange.

She ran closer, but all there was were a few girls; three dressed in some sort of uniform and one in a fairy costume.

She wanted to leave, but a small voice inside that was not her own urged her forward. Frowning, she shook her head and ran.


End file.
